Hymn 28 by Isaac Watts

What mighty man, or mighty God,
Comes travelling in state,
Along the Idumean road,
Away from Bozrah's gate?

The glory of his robes proclaim
'Tis some victorious king:
"'Tis I, the Just, th' Almighty One,
That your salvation bring."

"Why, mighty Lord," thy saints inquire,
"Why thine apparel's red?
And all thy vesture stained like those
Who in the wine-press tread?"

"I by myself have trod the press,
And crushed my foes alone;
My wrath has struck the rebels dead,
My fury stamped them down.

"'Tis Edom's blood that dyes my robes
With joyful scarlet stains;
The triumph that my raiment wears
Sprung from their bleeding veins.

"Thus shall the nations be destroyed
That dare insult my saints;
I have an arm t' avenge their wrongs,
An ear for their complaints."

by Isaac Watts

Other poems by 'Isaac Watts'

Hymn 121

Hymn 122

Hymn 152

Hymn 153

Hymn 154

Hymn 155

Hymn 156

Hymn 157

Hymn 158

Hymn 159

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